


The Ghost Arguer

by foxymoley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Death because that comes with ghost stories, Fluff, Ghost Kevin Tran, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Meet-Cute, Never an Angel Castiel, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Reaper Billie (Supernatural: Form and Void)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21734470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/pseuds/foxymoley
Summary: Cas minds his own business as much as he can but his frequent spectral visitors make it difficult.He gets a bit of peace when two strangers show up in his small town, but at what cost?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	The Ghost Arguer

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Toby for the super speedy beta! ♥

The bar was quiet tonight and Cas stared into his drink, reveling in the rare silence. He should have been worried that no one had tried to talk to him yet but, frankly, he was relieved. Throwing back the dregs, Cas eyed the bar, noting two new faces. Two quite nice faces if he were being honest. He stared at them absently, eyes glazing as tiredness swept over him. He should really get some sleep. Take advantage of the break in voices to get a few hours in. A wide yawn cracked his features and broke the one sided staring match. 

He stood to leave, and as he detoured to the bar to settle his bill, he made brief eye contact with the prettier of the two strangers. Green eyes bore into his, dark in the dim light of the bar but still vibrant. Cas could see curiosity there, something much more than passing interest, so he smiled. Safe in the knowledge that, if the man wasn't just passing through, he would be here again as the town wasn't big and everyone ended up here sooner or later. He called goodnight to the bartender and, swinging his trench on, made his way out and home. 

Cas had only been outside five minutes when the first one approached him. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to ease the tell tale pressure behind his eyes. 

"Excuse me?" Cas blinked. They weren't usually this polite. This one must be…fresh. "Can you help me? You're the first person to even look at me in days!" Fresh and clueless. Great. 

He looked along the deserted street before answering. "Yes. How can I help?" 

The ghost beamed at him, clearly relieved. "I'm lost. I…I was in my mom's car…then I was here. I don't know what happened. Is she okay?"

Cas used to be more sympathetic but after years of being a therapist to the departed, alone in this particular skill, he'd usually stick to his tried and true procedure. 

"What's your name?" 

"Kevin Tran…I was going to sch-" Cas raised a hand to interrupt. Where the kid was going probably wasn't important. 

"What is your dream?" 

The young man stared at him. "What?" 

Cas rolled his eyes, impatient in his fatigue

"What is your dream in life? Your aspirations, goals…?" 

"I'm going to be the first Asian American President of the United States." It was Cas' turn to stare. He'd never heard that one before, it was oddly specific. Didn't sound like the dream of a teenager at all, more like a parent. 

Ah, his mom. Now, this, he'd seen before, the closure the kid needed to 'move on' was parent related. He pulled out his phone and opened the browser. 

"Mom's name?" Cas asked brusquely. 

"Linda Tran. Wh…" 

"Home town?" 

"Neighbour, Michigan." Cute. 

"Is that where you were?" 

"Yeah. What's happening?!" Kevin sounded panicked. Contrary to popular belief, feelings were still strong after death. The calm that was supposed to fall over you just didn't happen. Cas raised his hand again as he scrolled through the Google entries. 

"Linda Grace Tran, car accident a week ago. Some asshole ran a red light. She's fine but her son died at the scene. Instant. Painless. All things considered, coulda been worse." 

Cas stuck his phone in his back pocket and looked up. He wasn't surprised to see Kevin staring at him, apparently flabbergasted. He sighed. 

"Apologies, this happens a lot and I'm used to it. This way is best, believe me. Ripping the existential band aid off. Now, if you'll just wait here, I'll let someone know you're lost. Okay?" 

Ghost Kevin nodded slowly, already fading a bit, and Cas stepped into the shadows of a nearby alleyway. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on a single name. Billie. 

He opened his eyes and she stood there, barely visible, all in black. She'd once told him there weren't many reapers left and sometimes they missed a soul or two. Especially if the person was holding on to something. Cloaking themselves in sheer anxiety. 

"He was worried about his mom but I think he's ready now." 

"Was my presence really necessary?" She massaged her temples and Cas shrugged. 

"I don't have to do this. I'm tired and a bit drunk. Not the best time for astral negotiation." 

Billie frowned, "careful, Castiel. Come along, Kevin. This way please." 

Cas continued on his way, waving over his shoulder. "Bye, Kev. Have fun up there." 

He felt the heavenly portal open behind him, bright light firing his shadow ahead of him. This was getting ridiculous. For the last few years he hadn't gone an hour without some lost soul bothering him. When there were less, Cas used to take this more seriously, he would be solemn and polite like a funeral director. Gently asking questions and talking them through what could be keeping them here. He hardly ever had to call Billie. However, once you've spoken to roughly ten thousand 'patrons', you lose the will to give good customer service. 

Cas suddenly wished he was more drunk when a woman appeared in front of him. She was angry, he could tell from the way she sparked and flickered. This might be a tough one, she looked like she'd been around a while, and he was too tired for vengeful so, despite being risky as Billie was both mad at him and didn't always hear him, he just fired off a half hearted call to her and left the reaper to reap. 

Home at last, he crawled into his crappy bed, in his crappy apartment and fell into a crappy sleep. 

***

Castiel tried to get some writing done that morning but he'd been distracted. He'd dreamt of green eyes and leather, and he wasn't entirely sure why until, after his fourth cup of coffee, the answer slammed into him with the memory of the strangers at the bar. Hmm. He tapped his lips, thinking. Maybe they were still in town… 

A shower later, Cas grabbed his laptop and told himself that working in the cafe down the street would be helpful and if most people who pass through town end up there (cafe in the day, bar at night. Inevitable.) then that was just a coincidence. 

If he wore his ridiculously big Bluetooth headset, he bought for exactly this purpose, he could talk to a ghost without looking like he was talking to himself. 

As it happened though, he didn't need to use the headset at all. Nothing approached him. At all. It occurred to him that he'd gotten used to lights flickering and always feeling cold but it was a welcome change that he felt warm, almost too warm by the gas fire he'd chosen to sit next to. 

After a couple of hours of peace he peered around the cafe, blinking away the white square of his screen, and saw the pretty man from the night before sitting nearby. He was wearing a black suit now and frowned down at the pile of newspapers on the table in front of him. As Cas watched him, the other man came in, glancing around before approaching the first man to slap him on the shoulder with the back of his hand and sit down with him. 

Cas still watched, unable to tear his eyes away, even as the newcomer leaned in and whispered something to the object of Cas' less than subtle stare. The man turned but Cas was too slow to look away and their eyes met, green eyes smirked at him and he quickly turned his attention back to his work. He looked up now and again to find the man looking at him more often than not, twirling a stirrer between his plush lips, newspapers forgotten in front of him. 

As he pretended to type, far too preoccupied to actually do any writing, Cas realised that he'd never been able to have this type of extended flirtation with a stranger. He'd always end up distracted or looking insane, usually both, and the encounter would be a dead end. This time though, he'd been left alone, not a single soul, dead or otherwise had bothered him. 

He was interrupted from his musings by a deep voice and a hand on the back of the chair across from him. 

"Is this seat taken?" 

"N-no. It's not." He cursed himself and cleared his throat. "I mean, you can take it if you need it." He looked around at the empty tables, each with two free chairs each and frowned up at the man. "Oh! Hello." They both smiled, the same coy looks they'd been sharing all afternoon and the man sat down with his hand out. 

"Name's Dean."

"Castiel."

***  
It was the lights dimming that finally caught Cas' attention. He tensed, expecting a spectral visitor but when he looked around he found the chairs had all been stacked and the floors swept. The waitress was wiping down the counters, humming to herself. 

Dean checked his watch, and jumped. "Shit, dude, I gotta go." He got up and patted down his pockets, finally fishing a card out to hand over between two long fingers. Cas looked up at him through his lashes, and took the card with a smile. "uh…my personal number's on the back." Dean backed out with an adorable wave, clipping a table on the way and blushing madly. 

Once home, after leaving the poor waitress to finally close up, Cas pulled out his phone. 

*Hello, Dean.*

**Hey, Cas.** 

Castiel's chest warmed at the nickname and they texted back and forth as he made his dinner. The conversation flowed just as easily as it had in the cafe and he found himself still chatting as he got ready for bed. He'd had two more visitors in that time but he gave them a cursory sending off, one of them didn't even need Billie once they'd figured out what the hell was going on. Lying in the dark with his phone, he could almost forget that he had these interruptions, that he was a teenager again, giggling under his duvet, talking to a boy. 

He eventually, and reluctantly, said his good night's, after he'd tiredly dropped his phone a few times, and fell into, what would turn out to be, his longest, and deepest, sleep in years. 

***  
Dean had asked for a tour of the town last night so Cas was taking him today. He was pleasantly surprised that his day ended up being just the two of them. Lunch at a diner, then Cas led them to the old hospice. St. Catherine's had been abandoned for years, but Cas avoided it because, for him, it was usually pretty busy. He'd clear it out occasionally, just to keep the numbers down, but it definitely wasn't his favorite past time. 

The souls here had been around a while, ones that point blank refused to move on, others that are stuck for other reasons, some came and went as they pleased. He would never understand the afterlife, he had to console himself with the fact that Billie probably had a boss of some sort, which meant there was a higher power but from what Cas had seen and heard, this entity wasn't particularly good at paperwork. 

They'd been standing staring up at the building for a while now as Dean seemed to be appreciating the architecture, or something else that made him consider the old place so thoughtfully, and Cas had been watching the departed wander to and fro through the large windows. 

"Can I go in?" Dean asked suddenly. Cas wasn't surprised by Dean's curiosity, he'd already revealed he was a bit of horror film nut and it was why Dean had made a point of requesting this stop on the tour. "You should stay here though." Dean must have taken his hesitance as fear. 

"Why would I stay out here?" Cas asked, aiming for coy but probably hitting petulant. Dean stepped further into his space and brought a hand up to cup Cas' cheek, he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. 

"Could be dangerous, sweetheart." Dean's breath played across his neck, drawing gooseflesh the length of his body. "Maybe it's haunted…"

Cas snorted loudly, then broke into a full laugh. Wiping away a tear, he grabbed Dean's hand and dragged him toward the back of the building. 

"The back door isn't as secure as the front. Come on." Dean followed, keeping a firm grip on Cas' hand. 

"You done this before, Cas?" Dean said and waggled his eyebrows when Cas looked over his shoulder at him. "Elicit meetings with strangers?" 

"Something like that," Cas murmured. 

The door was pretty easy to force open with a couple of strong shoulders against it and they both stumbled into the darkness. 

Cas was immediately aware how quiet it was. All the people he'd seen at the windows were gone and the halls echoed with only two sets of footsteps. He frowned into the darkness, unsettled by an absence of the soft light that normally surrounded ghosts. He wandered down a hallway he knew lead to the morgue, peering in each room as he went. Dean was doing his own exploring and, if this were a horror movie, at least one of them would meet a grizzly end. 

The morgue was the furthest point of the building and when he got there the place was packed. Souls gathered in the corner, some aware of each other, some not. Silence fell after an initial susurration when Cas had entered and the sight was the eeriest thing he had ever witnessed. There was some shuffling and one ghost stepped forward. More solid than the others. An ambassador? 

She spoke in a whisper. "Dean Winchester." 

Cas shook his head. "Castiel." He pressed a hand to his chest. The woman frowned and pointed to where he'd come from. 

"Dean Winchester." She looked more scared than any departed he'd seen and it chilled him to the bone. "We aren't like him." A loud bang and a tortured scream made him jump back, breathing heavily, he barely registered Dean grabbing him by the shoulders and cupping his face. 

"Cas?! You okay?" 

Dazed, Cas looked up into wide, green eyes. "Winchester." 

Dean dropped his hands and took a step back, frowning. "How do you know my name? Who are you?" 

"They're terrified. Who are you?" Cas glared at him, poking a finger into his chest. "What did you do to her?" 

"I think we need to have a little chat. Come with me." 

***

Cas found himself in a cheap motel room with Dean and, apparently his brother, Sam. The place was littered with newspapers; crime scene photos and some strange symbols adorning the walls. There was salt everywhere. 

Sam had looked livid when Dean had burst in with Cas in tow, he had frantically shuffled papers around until Dean quickly told him to stop. 

"Quit it, Sam. He's not exactly a civilian." Dean was frowning deeply when he turned back to Cas. "Spill." 

Cas crossed his arms and glared. Why should he? Who were these men? "You first."

The brothers shared a glance and Sam gestured for Dean to take the lead. 

"We're hunters. We look for monsters and we kill them." 

"Monsters." Cas said, voice flat. "Like ghosts?" Dean nodded. "And, what else, vampires? Werewolves?" Dean nodded again. "Okay." 

"Okay? That's it?" 

"Yes. I see dead people." Cas smiled and Dean huffed a laugh at the reference. "But ever since you've been in town, there have been very few lost souls. They're scared of you." Cas pointed. "Why?" 

Dean smirked and opened his arms wide, cockily. "Guess our reputation proceeds us," Dean declared happily. His smug attitude irked Cas and he glared hard. 

"You destroy them?!"

"Well, yeah." Dean rubbed the back of neck, swagger gone in the face of Cas' ire. "They're ghosts!"

Cas huffed and threw his hands in the air. "Not just ghosts, Dean. People! They're just lost souls. How would you like it if you got arrested every time you took a wrong turn, or worse, executed. It's ridiculous!"  
"Look, buddy, by the time I find out about them, they're hurting people! How was I supposed to know!?"

To his credit, Dean looked troubled and Cas deflated. "Okay, I'm sorry, I see. If they're around too long, they can get…vengeful. All the pent up anger gets misdirected and they can get confused. Lash out."

Sam spoke for the first time. "How do you deal with it…them?" 

"They seem to be attracted to people that can see them. I used to deal with one or two a month but for the last couple of years it's been one an hour. Billie says the reapers are dying."

"Billie?"

"Reapers?" the two men interrupted at the same time. 

"Reapers are the creatures that lead people into the afterlife. Billie is one of them, we met when I accidentally summoned her, trying to get rid of a particularly obtuse ghost. If I can't get a soul to move on…" or I can't be bothered, he thought to himself. "...I call her." Cas shrugs. "The first night I saw you, I hadn't been bothered by a soul for hours. It was nice. Same for today...until the hospice.

"I thought it was a coincidence but it does, indeed, seem like your 'reputation proceeds you'. They were running scared. What brought you here anyway? I haven't heard of any deaths here."

Cas had been curious about what had brought the men here, even before this revelation. It was a small town, nothing to alert the media about. 

"Heart attacks. This town has too many," Sam said. 

"Well, it is a retirement town," Cas mused, unsure now that he thought about it. He didn't have much of a social life, and being a writer left little in the way of colleagues so he hadn't noticed before. The librarian that helped him with obscure references sometimes, the Gas 'n' Sip manager, shit, the sheriff even. All dead of heart attacks, reasonably young. 

"I can see you've put a few things together, Cas." Dean smiled reassuringly, not angry anymore, sympathetic. 

"How can I help?" Cas raised his chin with a steely resolve. If they could find this ghost and he could talk to it, maybe it would move on. 

***

The hospice was silent. So completely that Cas felt as if he'd gone deaf, the noiselessness sucking at his eardrums. He had insisted Dean and Sam stay outside while he tried to talk to the ghost, it hadn't been an easy argument to win but Cas compromised by wearing an earpiece and a camera. The damp carpet absorbed his footsteps and the late evening shadows swallowed all the beautiful detail of the old building. According to Sam, all the victims had family die here before it closed down under 'suspicious circumstances'. It was the only link they could find so it was as good a place as any to start looking and Dean had taken the local hospitals backup hard drive 'into evidence' under the guise of a cyber crimes agent. 

Turned out, each and every victim had looked into the administrator of the hospice, convinced it was his cutbacks and negligence that killed patients. During the trial, Dr.Brian Hodges, St Catherine's Chief of Staff, had died of a heart attack. Castiel had been told by Dean, over a coffee, that if they burned his desk, the haunting would stop. Cas was reluctant to do this, so he went in first for a chat. If things got angry, Sam and Dean would be in right after him. 

"Hello?" His voice shook a bit. Yeah, he'd dealt with furious spirits before but this one is so angry, it could literally kill him. "Brian? My name is Castiel. I'm here to help you." 

He neared the archive room and felt the air grow cold. His breath misted in front of him. "I know you're here, Brian. Don't you want to move on?"

He would try the usual tactics until he showed himself, then he would call Billie. She didn't take kindly to false alarms so he had to be sure. His flashlight flickered, and between the flashes a man appeared in front of him, pacing and pulling his hair. He muttered obscenities to himself and rubbed at his arm, his chest, his face. 

Billie! Cas screamed in his mind. Please hear me!

"Brian Hodges? Do you know where you are?" The flickering man ignored him and he stepped closer. He could hear a voice in his ear, tinny and distant, he ignored it. "Chief?" The man stopped and turned, all of his focus now on Castiel, he stared at him, through him. Cas froze, he'd never seen this kind of hostility from a soul before. He saw no humanity there. 

Castiel stumbled backward, as the ghost sparked and shook, it followed, step by step and Cas yelled silently again. For fucks sake, Billie! He could distantly hear banging and yelling, and wondered briefly if it would be the last thing he heard. Frantic and anxious, not the calm white light and soft hum of a heavenly portal. 

Darkness fell over him, not death, but close. A shadow, the dark relief of Billie standing in front of him, between him and the enraged spirit. 

***

He'd died. That's really the only explanation for why he was so incredibly comfortable, why he could smell coffee and why there was an angel sitting on his bed. Cas stretched, feeling his knees pop deliciously, and ran a hand through his hair. 

His back twinged painfully and he winced. Not heaven then. He blinked at the man on his bed. 

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas." 

"What happened?" Cas tried to sit up but Dean laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and eased him back. "I was in the archives? That was a really, fucking angry ghost. I've never felt threatened before, I don't understand, I…" Dean shushed him quietly and ran his thumb over Cas' knuckle. He spoke softly. 

"It's okay, Cas. Brian has passed on. He'd been festering within the pages of the newspapers for so long that he'd grown quietly insane and when they moved the old papers from the Bugle office to the archive, he was disturbed.

"We saw the lights flicker on your camera and we heard you speak but nothing else until you passed out. When we got inside, that was…different. Jesus." Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair and down his face, resting a fist against his lips, he huffed a humorless laugh. 

"Billie's a freaking badass. Terrifying." Dean thought for a second. "Hot, though." Cas pouted and Dean laughed for real. "Only got eyes for you though, sweetheart."

Cas didn't know how long they gazed at each other, fingers strumming over palms, when a cough from the motel doorway made them both jump. 

"Hey, Castiel, good to see you awake. How're you feeling?" Sam bustled for a moment in the kitchenette then brought a steaming mug to Dean and a glass of water to Cas. "That was a close one, huh? Do that often?" 

"Can't say that I do. Normally, it's more…peaceful." He sipped his water and Dean gulped a coffee or two while Cas told them stories of the ghosts he'd helped. Poor Kevin, looking out for his mom. Charlie, who just wanted to help people. The sad ones, the funny ones. The guy who had died on his way to a costume party and scared the shit out of Cas when Chewbacca materialised in his bedroom. 

In turn, Sam described the beautiful library they had at home and Dean told him tall tales of danger and derring do. 

Sam left to grab lunch at one point but not before sharing a loaded glance with his brother. Dean cleared his throat. 

"So, Cas…are you attached to this place?" 

"Not particularly. Why?" 

"Well, um, Sam didn't mention it before but the place we live, well, it's a bunker. A fortress against things that go bump in the night and we thought, I thought, that you could come back with us. You'd have your own room and the place is huge so it's not like we'd be living together, together.

"You could handle the ghosts, bring in Billie when we need her, and the best part is, you could have a decent night's sleep. A bit of peace. Oh, we have great WiFi."

Cas stared. He didn't know what to say. On the one hand, this man was insane. On the other, he was sweet but tough, funny, kinda hot…

He grinned and Dean beamed back. 

"Of course."


End file.
